


Home to you

by iantosgal



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantosgal/pseuds/iantosgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur carried the letter around with him for two years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home to you

Arthur carried the letter around with him for two years. Ariadne never asked what it said or who it was from and Arthur never mentioned it. When she asked Cobb about it he always told her to leave it alone. It was Arthur’s business and Arthur’s alone. Ariadne and Cobb should keep their noses out.

So she does. But it bugs her because she can vaguely remember the time just before Arthur got that letter. He’d seemed...happy. Really happy and there was something in his smile that hadn’t been there before. Then one day, the smile was gone, the happiness gone with it, and the letter appeared for the first time.

It cropped up every now and again, but it was clear that Arthur kept it on him all the time. It was creased and the corners were bent.

And Ariadne found it harder and harder to ignore.

She held off for two years but it was always there in the back of her mind and the secrecy was killing her. When Arthur left his jacket on the back of a chair and went off with Cobb, Ariadne could no longer resist.

She found the letter in an inside pocket and slipped it into her bag, before grabbing her jacket and sticking her head around the door to the room where Cobb and Arthur were huddled over a mound of files.

“I’m just popping out for coffee.”

She left without asking them if they wanted her to bring them one back or giving them a chance to say anything at all.

~I~

Once she was settled in a quiet corner of the coffee shop with a strong coffee beside her, she pulled the envelope out of her bag and carefully extracted the letter. It was crumpled and the ink had run in places where it looked like tears had fallen on the paper. She unfolded the paper, taking in the smudged ink and noticed some off the tear stains seemed recent.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and for a moment felt guilty. But suddenly she recognised the writing and the guilt was driven out by intrigue.

It was Eames’ writing.

_My Darling Arthur,_

_I know you will hate me for every word that I write here but it’s all true, darling, and well, I don’t think I could tell you all this in person, not now._

_We both know I have a past, hell you’re in it, but we also both know you can’t run from your past forever._

_I’m in trouble, darling. A lot of trouble and the thing is...well. You know I thought this would be easier in a letter but it’s not. It’s just as hard_

_I’m leaving, Arthur. I don’t want to, God knows I don’t want to, but someone’s after me and if they find out about you... I couldn’t bare it. They’re twisted, Arthur. They’d kill you just to hurt me. But it wouldn’t just hurt me. It would destroy me._

_I guess what I’m saying is, I love you, darling. God, how I love you and I wish I could stay and see you smile at me every morning. I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time not being man enough to tell you how I feel. I wish I could wait until you wake up and say this to your face but I’m terrified you’ll ask me to stay and I could never say no to you, Arthur. And I really do have to go._

_But the thing I wish more than anything, is that I had had the balls to tell you I love you for the first time in person, not on a piece of paper._

_I have to go. I know, I know, you can take care of yourself. But sometimes, Lady Luck is not on my side, and I refuse to stay around and see if this is one of those times. If you died, Arthur, it would be the end of my world. Do you understand? Do you see what you’ve done to me? Before you I could easily walk away from any situation if it meant saving my own skin and everyone else could go to hell. But you? You I would die for in an instant._

_I don’t want to alarm you, darling, but there is a very really possibility that I won’t be coming back._

_Which leads me on to the second reason for this letter. Do not follow me. I mean it, Arthur. I know you. You’re the best point man in the world and you could probably find me in an instant. But I’m begging you not too. The whole point of leaving is to keep you save. If you follow me, you won’t be._

_I have to go, you’re muttering in your sleep, which normally means you’re close to waking up._

_Don’t try and find me, darling. I’ll contact you when I know it’s safe. I daren’t contact you before. He can never find out about you, I hope you understand._

_I will do everything I can to come home to you. I love you, Arthur._

_E x_

Ariadne stared at the letter shocked. She had no idea Eames was on the run. Arthur had always told them that Eames was busy when they needed him for a job.

She also had never realised that Arthur and Eames had been together but the words in the letter were so sincere that it almost felt like it wasn’t Eames who had written them. But it was his hand writing and Arthur had been clinging to this letter for two years.

How had they missed it?

Her coffee was cold and there were tears on her face. She wiped them away and abandoned her drink, putting the letter back in her bag and heading back to the office they had rented out for the job.

~I~

Arthur was sat alone at his desk when she got back. He wasn’t writing or reading anything, in fact he wasn’t doing anything at all, just staring at the door, staring at Ariadne.

“Where’s Cobb?” Ariadne asked a little unnerved by Arthur’s gaze.

“Was it a good read?” Arthur’s voice was cold and Ariadne flinched.

“Arthur...”

“Give it to me,” Arthur demanded, holding out his hand. Ariadne fumbled in her bag and retrieved the letter. Arthur snatched it from her hand. “You had no right.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted...”

“To stick your nose in everyone’s business? I know, Ariadne. You should have just left it alone.” Arthur grabbed his coat and stormed out of the office.

He didn’t come back. The job had to be abandoned and Cobb was furious that Ariadne had gone behind his back. He went home to his kids and told her he would fix everything.

Ariadne went back to Paris, felling lost and more alone then she had ever felt in her life.

~I~

It was a month before she heard from Cobb again and another three months before she worked with both him and Arthur.

Arthur seemed more distant than before when he greeted her and she felt the guilt rise up again. She had betrayed his confidence and possibly shattered the friendship that had been budding between them. Tears welled in her eyes and she flung herself at him, feeling a small amount of relief when he hugged her back.

“I’m so, so sorry, Arthur.”

He didn’t say anything which told Ariadne everything. One, she was forgiven, two, Eames had not returned.

~I~

The job was an easy one, but then again every job seems simple when you’ve performed inception. They got all the information they needed and passed it on to the man that had hired them. It turned out that the woman had been cheating on her husband after all and not only that, it was with one of his main business competitors and she wasn’t exactly shy about passing on her husband’s business information. They left the man staring at the folder they had presented him with, a large glass of whiskey and the rest of the bottle, beside him.

They were in high spirits as they let themselves into the suite they had booked for the job. Or rather, Ariadne and Cobb were in high spirits; Arthur had managed to actually crack a smile, which these days could count as Arthur being ecstatically happy.

The smile faded into a wide eyed look of shock when they turned on the lights to find Eames sat in an armchair in the dark.

Eames blinked up at them, his focus homing in on Arthur, and he swallowed.

“Arthur...”

Arthur walked across the room like he was in a trance. When he reached Eames he stared at him for a few seconds and Eames gave a tentative smile.

Arthur hit him in the face. Hard.

Then he started punching Eames’ arms, his chest, shoulders, again and again. There were tears on his face and he called Eames every name under the sun.

Eames took it until Arthur’s blows began to become fewer and softer and then he took Arthur’s arms and pulled him to his chest, cradling the weeping man and running his hand soothingly along Arthur’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “darling, I’m so sorry.”

They stayed that way for long moments, Arthur’s face pressed into Eames chest, his shoulders shaking slightly while Eames rocked him gently from side to side, tears running down his face.

Ariadne and Cobb traded glances and quickly left the two men to their reunion.

~I~

 

Arthur pulled away from Eames’ arms when he heard a door click shut behind him. Ariadne and Cobb were gone and it was just him and Eames alone. He reached up and cupped Eames’ face, his thumb stroking along his cheekbone.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he whispered.

Eames smiled a watery smile, tears still trickling softly down his cheeks. He didn’t seem to notice the tears and Arthur wiped them gently from Eames’ skin.

He looked at Eames, really looked at him, and he could see how Eames had changed.

He was thinner and paler. He looked tired and there was a thin scar that hadn’t been there two years ago on his cheek.

Mostly it was his eyes. They looked...haunted, older. There wasn’t the same mischievous glint that had been there before. That above all, made Arthur realise that if the last two years had been bad for Arthur, they had been hell for Eames.

He wanted to see that sparkle and that cheeky grin that he knew so well, but it was gone. A sudden desire to force it back on his lovers face had him surging forwards. He pressed his lips hungrily to Eames’, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man’s neck and pulling him close.

There was a moment where Eames did nothing. He didn’t kiss Arthur back; he didn’t put his arms around him or push him away. He just stood there, as if stunned.

Then, with a sound like a whimper, Eames kissed him back. He took control of the kiss, softening it and tangling a hand in Arthur’s hair, the other gripping his shoulder tight enough to bruise. His grip was at total odds with the gentleness of the kiss and Arthur’s heart stuttered. It was like Eames was unsure of what to do, how to approach their reunion. His grip yelled need, yet his lips whispered love and an aching sense of love and sadness.

He was crying again. Arthur could taste the other man’s tears on his lips.

“Eames...Eames, its ok...Eames...” Arthur whispered.

Eames let out a broken sound and pulled gently away, resting his forehead against Arthurs.

Arthur reached up and brushed his fingers carefully through Eames’ hair. It was longer than it had been, another in a lengthening list of things that had changed.

He slowly became aware that Eames’ hands were roaming across his body. It wasn’t an erotic touch but more a searching one. Eames explored Arthur’s entire body, feeling every muscle and bone, assuring himself that Arthur was whole, that Arthur was alive.

Arthur let him, barely moving except for the continuous, monotonous motion of his hand carding though Eames hair.

“I thought he was going to kill you,” Eames eventually whispered, almost too quietly to hear. “He told me he knew where you were. I panicked, Arthur. I went after him. Oh God, I shouldn’t have left. I should have been here...”

“I can take care of myself, Eames.”

“I know...I know,” Eames said, but he didn’t sound sure. His hand was resting directly above Arthur’s heart, eyes closed, their foreheads still pressed gently together.

“Eames, what happened?”

Eames shook his head, pulling away from Arthur’s loose embrace.

“I can’t...I mean...I don’t want to talk about it...Arthur.” The last word came out as a whimper and Arthur wrapped his arms around him again.

Arthur was a little scared. This was Eames. Strong, sarcastic, unflappable Eames. Eames who never cried, who certainly never whimpered. He was, for want of a better word, hard. But this wasn’t the same man that had left two years ago. He was there, certainly, but he was hidden under layers of tiredness, sadness and...something else.

Arthur pressed a kiss to Eames’ temple, then another to his forehead, his eyes, his nose, both cheekbones, along his jaw and finally his lips, whispering Eames’ name in between every press of his lips.

His fingers slowly worked the buttons of Eames shirt, each one he opened revealing more bruises and cuts on Eames torso and each one of them a needle in Arthur’s heart. He pulled off his own jacket, shirt and tie, before carefully leading the other man to the bed and pulling him down with him.

Arthur arranged them carefully on the bed, Eames head resting on his chest and pulled the covers over them. He rubbed a hand along Eames’ bicep, fingers outlining the intricate patterns of the tattoo that adorned it. He held Eames close and listened to his breathing as it became steady and slow. Once he was sure the other man was asleep, he let his head fall back fully against the pillow and sighed.

He didn’t know what had happened to Eames, and frankly at that moment he wasn’t sure he cared.

He had Eames back.

It had taken two years, two long years, but Eames had come home.

Home. Yes, now, with Eames in his arms, Arthur felt at home.

No doubt when Eames told him what had happened and who this man was who had held them apart for so long, Arthur would be pissed. Whatever had happened in those two years had almost destroyed Eames and Arthur knew he wouldn’t rest until he got revenge for his lover...boyfriend...partner. His partner.

Because if being apart had taught Arthur anything, it was that he and Eames fit together like he never thought he could fit with anyone else. They were two halves of a whole. It sounded corny in his head but he couldn’t deny the truth of it.

Tomorrow, tomorrow he would deal with everything and start putting Eames, his Eames, back together. He tightened his arms around Eames, relishing the feel of the warmth beside him, and closed his eyes. He had Eames back and that was enough for now. He drifted off and, for the first time in two years, he slept well.


End file.
